Crossbows and Flowers
by JohnLennonXOXO
Summary: Hey guys! This is a series of Caryl oneshots. Got up a third one! I hope you enjoy! Pretty please review! Thank you so much! You rock!
1. Chapter 1

_Hey guys! This is my very first Caryl story, so please leave me reviews! This is just one idea that I had in mind. There's a possibility that I'll add more one-shots to this series if I have time. I've got a couple less developed ideas bouncing around in my head. This one takes place in Alexandria in season 5. Anyway, you know the whole deal, I own absolutely nothing. Let me know what you think! Thank you so much and enjoy!_

Michonne woke up that morning a little earlier than usual and decided to wander the peaceful streets of their new home, Alexandria. Now that she had no need to keep watch and slaughter walkers to the point of exhaustion, she had to come up with more creative ways to keep herself occupied.

Once making her way outside, she closed her eyes and took in a deep breath of the crisp morning air which still had the smallest hint of the slight chill from night lingering in the newly found presence of the sun. She started her stroll slowly yet not very attentively, more lost in her own thoughts as if they were music and her footsteps the slow metronome of her dreamy tune.

She continued along the roads in her easy pace for nearly an hour, passing houses without taking notice to them or the people sipping on cups of coffee on their porches. The images of her surroundings only came to her in meshes of color and lazy movement until she heard a voice, snapping her out of her train of thought.

"Mornin'" she heard Daryl say to her in passing with early morning hoarseness.

She cleared her own throat before responding. "Good morning Daryl," she finished with a soft wave of her fingers.

"Hey, uh," Daryl scratched the back of his neck and stared down at his feet as he spoke to her, "have you seen Carol? I've been lookin' for her, but I can't find her 'round here."

Michonne chuckled to herself a little which didn't go unnoticed by Daryl who glared back up at her. With a look like that, she pressed her lips in a hard line, trying not to laugh any harder, but her laughter still ripped through her and caused her body to shake, giving it away.

"What do ya find so damn funny? Do ya know where she is or not?" his voice clearly exasperated.

"Oh c'mon, relax. _Someone_ is not a morning person," she retorted playfully, almost making Daryl smile.

"Hey guys! Restlessness got you on a morning stroll too?" came Glenn's cheery voice from in front of them. Both he and Maggie walked side by side with their fingers intertwined and bright, toothy smiles reaching every corner of their faces.

"Morning you two," Michonne grinned while Daryl mumbled a good morning.

Maggie and Glenn walked over to where Daryl and Michonne were standing, squinting as their eyes looked into the direction of direct sunlight; for the sun was now completely raised in the midmorning sky.

"Not a cloud in the sky," Maggie commented in a breathy tone, shadowing her eyes with her free hand as she looked into the blueness above.

"What were you two laughing about?" inquired Glenn with a smirk.

"Nothin'" Daryl huffed. "Look, have you seen Carol 'round this Pleasantville?"

"Oh, I think she wanted to bake somethin' with lil' Sam this mornin'," Maggie replied.

Glenn looked over at Michonne and both of their smirks deepened before Glenn spoke up. "Jealous?" He asked slyly.

"What I gotta be jealous for, huh? What is _with_ you people?" Daryl growled and took a couple beginning steps to stalk off to find them before he was stopped in his tracks by Michonne's voice.

"Wait, Daryl," she called to him. Daryl stopped and pivoted on his foot almost a little annoyed. "I think she said something to me yesterday that some man was gonna teach her how to shoot. Ugh, what was his name," she pretended to inquire, "Oh yeah! Tobin!" she snapped her fingers as she finally revealed his name.

"Wha- whatd'ya mean Tobin's showin' her how tah shoot?" he asked angrily, walking quickly back to Michonne, not even noticing the giggles being stifled by both her and Glenn.

"What isn't there to get? Tobin is teaching Carol how to shoot a gun," Michonne replied as matter-of-factly as she could manage from holding in her laughter.

"Carol can handle herself. This Tobin guy ain't got no business teachin' her how to shoot," he spat.

"I don't know Daryl, I think he's got a little more than teaching her how to shoot on his mind," Michonne insinuated with her eyebrow arched and eyeing Daryl suggestively.

Daryl suddenly clenched his fists and mumbled in the back of his throat "I'll teach that asshole how to shoot," more to himself than to any of the three people in front of him. He turned on his heels before anyone could respond and nearly ran to find Carol.

As soon as he was out of earshot, both Glenn and Michonne roared with laughter and playfully slapped each other on the back. Maggie chuckled to herself and then cleared her throat to speak.

Maggie, a little confused by the antics of both her husband and her friend, began to ask, "Michonne, I thought Tobin had-"

"Tobin isn't teaching Carol how to shoot," Glenn interrupted her in a quick breath and continued to laugh.

"Then why in the world would you say that?" she said in a mocking angry tone to Michonne.

"'Cause I love to see that man squirm," she answered between sharp breaths while shaking her head.

Maggie rolled her eyes with a wide smile and laughed along with them.

"Betchya Tobin comes back with a black eye," Glenn elbowed Michonne.

"Pffft, you're on! If Daryl gets a hold of him, he'll be lucky with just a black eye. I'm gonna bet on a broken arm, leg, broken _something_," she snorted.

"What about you Maggie, you want in on this?" asked Glenn.

"Oh please, I bet both of you that Tobin turns out fine, but Carol comes back knowin' how to use a crossbow," she winked.


	2. Chapter 2

_Okay, so I came up with another one much quicker than I thought I would. This one takes place season one before Rick even nears the camp. Carol is furiously trying to clean one of Ed's shirts when she has an unexpected visitor. Just as a heads up, this one contains instances of abuse and if I continue to write, there will be many more mentions (as you can imagine when writing stories of both Daryl and Carol- which is also why I changed the rating). As always, if you would be so kind to leave reviews, I would really appreciate it and thanks a million to those who have! Thank you so much and enjoy!_

When Carol awoke that morning, her heart sank when she realized that the sun was already up. Her intensions that night were to be up as soon as possible the next morning to get a head start on cleaning some dark blood stains out of Ed's shirt before he woke up. Now with the sunlight poking at the edges of his eyelids, it was only a matter of time before he woke up to a still dirty shirt to wear which would result in a day focused on unjust revenge and lesson teaching. Carol rubbed her eyes and lifted her sore body up off the ground, wasting no time except to keep her movements soft and soundless so not to alert Ed or her daughter Sophia. She hated leaving her alone in the tent with him, but she knew not cleaning his shirt would result in much more damage.

Carol carefully found her way out of the tent without making too much noise and ran toward the clothesline where Ed's stained shirt was still hanging. She sighed heavily as she unfolded the shirt and examined the blemishes. To her despair, they were much darker than she remembered. Without hesitation, she grabbed the cleaning supplies and ran towards the lake where the women in the camp were usually found doing laundry. To her relief, the space was unoccupied. She had no time, nor was in any mood, to talk to any of the people she shared the camp with.

Kneeling down to dunk the shirt in the water, Carol allowed herself a quick moment to stretch. She heard a loud crack come from her back and let out a clutched breath, giving her muscles a second to enjoy the release. As suddenly as she twisted her body to the other side with hopes that her back would give another relaxing pop, a sharp pain shot up her arm instead. She grabbed the top of her arm and let out a hiss as her fingers grasped the bruised marks of a much larger and much tighter grip that met her last night. The sudden memory reminded her that she needed to remove the stains quickly, or that grip would be a warning shot compared to what would be waiting for her in the tent.

Taking a deep breath, she submerged the shirt for a second in the water and then began furiously scrubbing at the stubborn red stains etched into the stitching of her husband's light blue shirt. Huffs escaped her lips as she continued the arduous task, noticing that little progress had actually been made. After scrubbing for what felt like hours, she lifted the shirt to observe its status and became frustrated with it falling much less than short of expectations. Her bottom lip quivered for a second, but she quickly sniffled and held it straight before tossing the shirt back in the water and lifting it back out to wear away the stains.

The chain continued for several more cycles: rinse, scrub, inspect, and repeat. Her huffs soon turned to whimpers and she grew more and more desperate and evidently hopeless for not only her own fate, but her daughter's as well. The last thing she wanted was for her own inadequacy to affect her daughter. If Ed wanted to punish her for being stupid, so be it, but she would be damned if she allowed that monster to lay a hand on her daughter. She couldn't prevent the mental abuse or trauma he instilled upon innocent Sophia, but the physical abuse was something she had yet to let happen. Ed would literally have to kill her before she let it.

Her dismal thoughts and near neurotic movements were snapped short when she heard a sudden whoosh beside her. Jumping out of the way, she turned around in time to see an arrow stuck through the abdomen of a rabbit that was trapped to the ground, but still had rapid movement of its legs, trying to break free.

"Got 'im!" she heard a cheer leading the way of one of the Dixon brothers. Daryl if she could recall correctly.

Carol sat in the same position with her legs bent and her heels digging into the dirt and leaning back on her elbows, panting from being startled by the shot. Her eyes were wide and watchful of the defenseless rodent still trying to break free from death, as if not ready to accept its perpetual defeat. Although it continued to move, the movements became slower and slower as it continued to bleed out and eventually leading it to not move at all. Even as Daryl got closer, her eyes couldn't peel from the horror of such torment.

"Had my eye on this sucker the whole mornin'! 'Fore the sun was even up. Wait'll I tell Merle I beat him to it," he said to himself half expecting his brother to pop up behind him. He chose to ignore Carol at first until he caught a glimpse of her terrified face.

Catching his eye suddenly, Carol gulped and sat up straight, trying to gather her thoughts. "Good morning Daryl," she finally spoke, but with a tentative, shaky voice.

"Mornin'" Daryl mumbled as he stepped on the rabbit and yanked the arrow out of its body. The creature shivered once more and went completely limp; giving Carol a series of shivers herself up her back.

"Sorry, this botherin' you?" he asked with a concern that surprised Carol at first.

"It's fine," she assured quietly. As she spoke, she turned her head in his direction to look at him for half a second and then went back to cleaning.

Daryl's eyes lingered on the mouse of a woman for a second longer, rolled his eyes, and began gathering his prize for the day. He looked at the lump of brown fur and blood and let a wide, prideful smile plaster his face. He bent down and lifted it over his shoulder, the weight of the animal slapping him in the back which made Carol immediately cringe at the edge of the lake. Daryl looked back at her again and noticed the shirt she was cleaning.

"Whoa! What'd ya husband kill to get _that_ much blood on his shirt?" the archer inquired, secretly wondering if that selfish bastard of a husband killed one of the few deer roaming near their camp and kept it all to himself.

Carol, who had looked up at Daryl at the sound of his voice, instinctively turned away and touched her fingers lightly to her bottom lip. It had been three days since he'd struck her there and three days since the blood had stained his shirt, but her lip was still slightly swollen and through the strange squishiness, she could still feel the remnants of where his knuckles made the thin layer of skin split. As if it were possible, she felt her body physically shrink at the embarrassment. Her husband had killed something a long time ago. Nowadays, he was just finishing the job, making sure it was still dead.

Daryl suddenly realized what the blood stains were from and felt stupid for even asking. Of course he knew. They all knew. They all heard the slaps echoing through the camp, gaining amplitude in the large empty cavity of Ed's gut, but no one knew quite the way Daryl and his brother knew. Every bruise on her skin and every look from her daughter's cautious eyes shot both Dixon brothers right back to their miserable childhood. Merle could laugh it off; say that woman deserved it if she was that fucking stupid to stay with him, but Daryl couldn't see it the same way. He spent many days having to physically restrain himself from killing Ed Peletier in the middle of his loud rage fits. Merle would pull him back to reality when he noticed his brother's eyes flaring, saying it was none of their business and to not get too close to any of these people here at the camp. He didn't owe that woman or her little girl a damn thing.

Clenching and then unclenching his fists to relieve some tension, he remembered his brother's warnings before he acted on impulsion. Without saying another word, feeling that enough had already been said, he spun on one heel to turn around, but gasped when his feet lost grip. Slipping on the blood of his catch, Daryl fell to the ground on his side with a loud thud.

Before he could lift himself up, Carol was at his side, "Are you alright?" Her voice was muffled behind her hands that were covering her mouth.

"I'm fine," Daryl grumbled in embarrassment. He tried avoiding her eyes, but he quickly snapped his head towards her when he heard the smallest snort come from behind the barrier of her pale hands that still had the water from the lake rolling off her skin.

"What's so funny?" he snapped.

The abrupt brightness that enveloped her blue eyes made the fallen man, without warning, smile too. It was a small smile, but one that had the hint of a chuckle behind it.

"Smooth," she commented at a barely audible volume, as if not sure how he'd react, before quietly snickering again.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Kick a man while he's down" he retorted hoarsely as he picked himself up with that same smile still printed on his face.

Carol remained on the ground, but her gaze followed him up as she continued to suppress her laughter.

Daryl hadn't spent this much time with anyone at the camp, but he was glad to see this particular woman smile because, he knew, in her world, smiles and laughter were hard to come by. That sad truth was abruptly exemplified by the sound of heavy footsteps heading towards them at an agonizing pace.

"Carol," came an angry voice. Her smile seemed to slowly evaporate from her face as she lowered her hands and let her gaze lazily fall to the ground.

"Carol, get back to the tent," Ed commanded. His eyes were still and fell on his wife with the weight and coldness of a glacier.

"I- I was just," Carol cleared her throat before continuing. "just trying to clean your shirt bef-"

"I don't care what you was doin'. I told you to go _back_ to the tent," his words shattered something inside of her that was visibly seen across her face and the way her arms immediately crossed over her stomach.

Without looking at either man, she lifted herself up, started to walk away, but stopped in her tracks to tentatively bend down and grab Ed's still stained shirt from the ground. She continued on her walk back to the tent, but turned back around when she didn't feel Ed's arms encasing her or at least heard his quickened stomps behind her. To her alarm, she noticed the glare that her dangerous husband was giving the hunter of the group who stubbornly stood his ground and glared right back. There was a heat of rage that radiated from the two of them that scared the hell out of Carol.

"Ed, why don't you-"

"What did I tell ya, you dumbass? Get back to the tent!" he shouted back at her, making her flinch.

When he still hadn't moved from Daryl, her concern heightened. "Ed, please," her voice sounded deflated. "Just leave it al-"

"I am _not_ gonna say it again. Do you hear me?" This time, Ed turned around to yell at Carol, which gave Daryl the chance to look her in the eye and with a slight gesture of his hand, assure her that he will be fine.

Carol gave off a small whimper like a sick dog before turning around and trudging back to her tent where she knew she could at least protect her daughter.

Ed turned back around to glare at Daryl again before saying "You hittin' on my wife or sump'n?"

Daryl narrowed his eyes back at the gargantuan man with the intent to smolder. "No," he spat. "'Sides, you the one doin' all the hittin' 'round here," he growled from deep within his chest.

"What'd ya say ya no-good hillbilly?" Ed tested.

"You heard me." Daryl refused to back down, but didn't bring himself to get in his face just yet.

"Stay 'way from my wife," his opponent warned with a finger poking at his chest with just enough force to shove his body just as a breeze might toss a leaf.

"Or what?" Daryl's voice started to rise and his shoulders started to lean forward. "You gonna beat ya wife's face in so badly, she won't be able to tell who's fuckin' her anyway?"

With that, Ed's face twisted into something even uglier and lunged at Daryl. Only one of Ed's outstretched arms made harsh contact with Daryl's body as he dodged him. Before he could stop himself, Daryl plunged towards the abuser with a fist prepared to meet his face, but Ed grabbed it and started to twist his arm behind his back. Daryl let out a grunt before kicking the back of Ed's knee, causing him to bend forward, but just before he fell, he grabbed Daryl down with him. Both men collapsed into the dirt, snarling at each other and tossing punches along with senseless insults.

They could have blocked out the rest of the world in their own rage if it weren't for the sudden click and the press of cold metal against Ed's head that made both fighters stop. Daryl looked up and saw his older brother Merle kneeling down with a gun pressed to the back of Ed's head.

"Now, now, now, let's not get outta hand here," Merle whistled down at Ed.

"Get that damn thing 'way from me," Ed sneered, spitting some blood that dripped from above his eyebrow and to his lip.

"Ya see, I can't do that 'less you let go of my baby brother," he warned. "Do we have an understandin' here?" he questioned as he pushed the gun harder against Ed's head.

With his fatty back still to the first Dixon brother, he could not see the hardness in his eyes or the snarl forming in his top lip. Merle huffed when Ed still held two handfuls of his brother's shirt and refused to budge. Daryl was still panting on the ground staring back at Ed with the unresolved fury along with the caked dirt pressed against the side of his face and in his hair scrambling up his features. In one quick movement, Daryl ripped himself from Peletier's grasp and stood up over him while Ed could do nothing but glare back up at him with his teeth bared.

"Now don't do nothin' stupid," Merle hissed as he felt Ed's body shaking in anger.

Merle looked back up at his brother who wasn't staring back, but chose to keep his eyes glued to Ed. "You done?" Merle called to Daryl.

Daryl finally yanked his eyes away from the helpless man still on the ground and look at his brother. He allowed for a huff of breath to push through his nostrils, making them flare and looked down at the ground to symbolize his obedience. With that, Merle took the gun off of Ed, who still hadn't stopped glowering at his opponent, and rose to meet his brother.

As soon as Merle moved, Ed attempted to rush at either of them, but Daryl swung a fist in his face and growled as he fell back to the ground. Merle whipped around and pointed his gun casually at the pile on the ground.

"Listen t'me, you're gonna get up and you're gonna walk 'way from here without causin' no more trouble. 'Cause I doubt you'd be much o' fight against a bullet," he snickered.

"Now why don't ya two pansies hug an' make up!" Merle added with a throaty laugh.

Ed lifted himself up and let his smoldering eyes attach to Daryl again. The cut on his head was bleeding badly and left a trail of red down his entire face. In response, Daryl just spit at ground and looked back up at him. The veins in Ed's head bulged in a flash of anger, but said nothing as he walked away.

Daryl's heart sank when he saw him stomping back to the tent. Carol would have another shirt to clean her own blood stains from again by tomorrow morning. He took a step forward with the hopes that he could restrain the tyrant, but his brother grabbed his shoulder.

"Don't you dare lil' brother. I think ya done enough. What happens there is none o' ya damn business. If he wants to beat his wife silly and she gonna take it, that's it," Merle cautioned.

"God… damn… bastard," was all Daryl could say.

"Ohhh, lookie here! Darleena nabbed Peter Cotton Tail, huh?" Merle announced, looking at Daryl's catch.

Daryl never heard his brother because the whimpers and slaps coming from the tent were too loud for him to drown out.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey guys, so this is another short and sweet one. It takes place sometime early in season 3, but it could really be at any point if you feel like it would fit better somewhere else._

Carol woke up that morning in her bunk and suddenly winced at the pain in her neck. The comfort in these cells was limited, but it was still better than sleeping in patches of dirt and dead grass. Carefully, she pulled herself out of bed and walked out of her cell to use the bathroom. As she trudged through the halls, blinking her eyes awake, she saw Daryl just ahead of her, gathering his crossbow and arrows.

A smile grew on Carol's still sleepy face, glad to see him first thing in the morning before he would hide himself away with Rick while they explored the rest of the prison. Growing more mischievous as she got closer to him, Carol held back a giggle as tightly as she could before stealthily making her way over to him, hoping he wouldn't notice just yet.

"Boo!" she shouted and grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his entire body jolt.

Daryl twisted so forcefully that he nearly sent Carol flying to the cemented ground. Carol gasped and gripped tighter onto his shoulders to catch her balance before looking into his still startled face. His body was shaking from the wearing-off adrenalin and his face was pale.

Daryl tried to speak, but his breath was hitched in the back of his throat, so all he could do was continue to pant. This alone sent Carol into a fit of laughter. She let go of him, stepped back, and allowed herself to indulge in her victory of scaring Daryl Dixon.

"I got you!" she gloated between snorts.

"What's the matter with you woman?" His face regained color, but more in the red tones as he balled his fists at his sides.

"C'mon, relax, I was just having some fun. You should have seen your face," she hooted.

"Whatever," he grumbled.

"C'mon sweet stuff." Carol smiled at Daryl and gave him a light-hearted shove.

"Ya know, if this world didn't go ta shit, I could snitch on you for sexual harassment," he retorted.

"You're just mad 'cause I got you." Carol rolled her eyes at him and folder her arms.

"Just get out of my way," he huffed and swished his arm across his chest as if motioning to Carol where to move.

"Daryl, I'm sorry, I was just fooling around," she reassured gently and smiled sweetly up at him.

Suddenly, Carol caught Glenn's eyes from behind Daryl. He was slightly crouched and when he finally made eye contact with Carol, he held a finger up to his lips and winked at her. It only took a fraction of a second for Carol's eyes to flitter back over to Daryl so as to not let him catch on.

Daryl narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but nodded his head "S'okay."

"Yeah," Carol continued. "I shouldn't be so rude around here." Carol kept her eyes on the ground and her smile pressed thin so that Daryl couldn't sense the mischief in them. "I mean, you guys just do so much and I really shouldn't be wasting my time with these childish games and such," she continued to ramble.

Daryl leaned his head back slightly in utter confusion as to why she was prattling. "I should respect the seriousness in all of this and not take it for granted," she continued. "I mean really, we're all adults here, and I shouldn't-"

BOO!" Glenn yelled inches behind him.

Daryl, caught off guard once again, gasped and fell forward onto Carol who wobbled, but managed to keep her balance while both she and Glenn howled in laughter.

Daryl lifted his head and snapped back when he realized he had his face planted right in Carol's chest. His face was bright red from both the anger and complete embarrassment.

"Whoa Mr. Dixon, eyes up here," said Carol in a mockingly stern voice while she pointed to her eyes. "And _I'm_ the one who's being blamed for sexual harassment," she giggled, no longer able to hold it in.

Glenn clapped his hands and screeched in even more laughter while Daryl's face only grew redder.

"Why don' the two o' you knock that shit off!" Daryl shouted and swatted his arms again.

Not being able to utter another word through her laughter, Carol moved to the side to let Daryl pass. He growled under his breath and stormed passed the both of them. After making his way down half the hallway, he could still hear the echoes of both of their cackles bouncing off the hard walls of the prison.

He sighed to himself before turning his head around and shouting "you two better watch your backs! Ya playin' my game now!" he warned with a slight smile, which only grew when both Glenn and Carol ceased their laughter and looked back at him with a slight bit of worry.

"You're on sweet stuff!" Carol called back to him.

Daryl laughed to himself and turned back around for fear that, even from so far away, Carol would still catch a glimpse of his blush.


End file.
